July 27, 2010

The devil sends me home with his extra tea-kettle and a bandage on the knee. After work I cut myself shaving & thought smiling, it’s too early in the evening to bleed on the carpet..

I expect beauty: mead wine & fireplay!

Dully, while you unwrap rope from my legs: We are here to fail. I kept breaking position to shield my beaten chest, although I wanted to remain in grace, and allow you. Dark is a way and light is a place, wrote Dylan Thomas. This is a way. (Here’s a moment: fire gliding along my skin. Here’s a taste: honeywine on glass.)

Here’s a place: kneeling and managing one wretched, degraded swallow. Like salt popcorn. Musky and fluid and salted. I’m left so, so, beyond low. Never let anything in kink make you feel less, you say. This doesn’t change anything. I love you.